Spinster
by AngelicToxin
Summary: "He was always good at spinning his little webs of deceit. How do I know this isn't one of them?" Jack Kelly left New York eight years ago without warning. Now he's back, seeking forgiveness of an old friend and trying to set the record straight for good.
1. Prologue

**Title: **Spinster

**Rating: **T for rare incidents of cursing.

**Summary: **"He was always good at spinning your little webs of deceit. How do I know that this isn't one of them?" Jack Kelly left New York eight years ago without warning. Now he's back, seeking the forgiveness of an old friend and trying to set the record straight.

**Author's Note: **I had a really strong impulse to write this fic one day because I was bemoaning the fact that there are not very many fics out there dealing with a post-strike world where Jack actually left. It's relatively short and will probably wind up being no longer than 15,ooo words total. I hope you enjoy it, as my life is rather tumultuous right now and I don't know when anything else new will be cranked out. (Disney owns the characters, by the way.)

**Prologue**

When you're young, you dream. That fact is obvious to anybody who was ever young and has since grown up. You don't know that it's merely dreaming when you're young- it's just something that you do, and your dreams are as real to you as what you eat for dinner. Those who have nothing dream more than those who have something.

Everybody knew that it was Jack Kelly's dream to go to the West one day. But that's all it was- a childish dream that was cooked up to distract him from the life he was really living, the life that had him scrounging for change even on the best days. Dreams, however, aren't meant to be sought after. Not when you have no money in your pocket, no fallback plan and no idea of what your dream really is.

That's why no one ever thought that he'd go through with it. Jack Kelly, while he was one of the most successful newsboys, had maybe a dollar more than the rest of them. He didn't have any way to return, once he'd gone, if he found the life unsuitable. Indeed, Jack had never really known what he wanted, other than that it was to leave New York City.

The last time I saw him was a cold December evening, the winter after the strike. My father's arm had healed and he'd gotten back a job. Not the one he'd had before- no, I'd been right on that account. The factory never took him back. But there is more than one factory in the city, and he found another place that would take him on for similar pay- a salary that surpassed my income selling papers.That only meant one thing to me, however. I had to go back to school.

School was always a pain for me. I never exactly fit in- too smart for some, too much of a wuss and a momma's boy for others, and too talkative for the rest. It wasn't until I'd found the newsies that I'd had any friends. Well… I'd never found anybody like Jack. Jack was different. He not only accepted me, but embraced me in a way that nobody else ever had.

To say the least, there wasn't anybody like Jack in my life up to that point. And I didn't look forward to saying good-bye to him. Everybody at the lodging house hailed me as I came in that night, walking past pairs of bunks to where Jack was lounging on his bed. His face broke into a grin when he caught sight of me, and for a second, I forgot my purpose in coming. But the lapse of memory was only momentary, and my own smile slipped off my face just as quickly as it'd come up.

"Jack, I need to talk to you."

* * *

That was eight years ago. I haven't seen or spoken to him since.


	2. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: **Thank you to everyone who has read this story and left reviews! Here's the first real chapter. Your only warning is: David drops the f-bomb once, and that is the only occurrence of swearing.

**Chapter One**

The young man stands in the unusually small kitchen of his apartment. Worn out by the events of the day's work, he runs his hand through the untidy mess of curls adorning his head. Being a journalist is his dream job, this he will freely admit, but he hopes one day to go on to better positions within the paper.

When the knock on the door comes unexpectedly, he spills his nearly full mug of coffee onto his shirt. Cursing silently, bemoaning the ruin of a brand-new shirt, he crosses the kitchen to where the door is. He assumes it is his roommate, locked out again.

Another sharp tap comes from the other side of the door. Mumbling about the unreliability of some people, he turns the knob and pulls open the door lazily. Once he gets sight of the person on the other side though, he has the strong temptation to slam it shut again. The profile is easily recognizable- he would know it anywhere, even after eight years.

"What the hell are you doing here?" His words are harsh, he knows, but he also knows that nobody deserves them more than the person standing in the door of his apartment.

The man standing on the other side of the door tries to speak. He is a year older than the man he addresses, but looks to be a few younger. Taller in stature, his slight grin from moments before has now faltered. "Davey, I—"

David cuts across him sharply.

"Don't call me that." The childhood nickname brings back memories he doesn't wish to remember- memories from before this intruder walked back in on his life. Angrily surveying the man on his doorstep, he adds, "It's Mr. Jacobs, actually. David, if you really must."

The smile is now completely gone from the other's face. "Dave— David. Can I come in?"

Silence. Finally, David gives him a withering glare. "Why the _fuck_ would I want to invite you into my home when you have been _nothing_ in my life for eight years?"

The other shrinks back from him ever so slightly. Of course he does not expect full forgiveness, but he hopes that David, his best friend, will at least hear him through. Quietly, almost ashamed, he says, "S'not what you think."

"Then what is it, Kelly? Or is it Sullivan, now? I was never too certain about that." David crosses his arms, and looks at the other. In another time, he never would have talked to his old friend like this. If Jack Kelly had come back a month, a year, even three years after his sudden disappearance, _then_ maybe he would be forgiving. But now it's too late.

Jack looks at David, the hurt evident on his face. But when he speaks, there is a slightly indignant tone in his voice. "Jack Kelly, here, Mr. Jacobs. Always has been, and it's always gonna be."

David smirks ever so slightly. Jack's pride is hurt- this is easily read on his face and in his words. For once, David has the upper hand over Jack. "Well then mister, I'm sure you'll understand that I am expecting company and that this is an inconvenient time."

"You'se expecting somebody?" Even after almost a decade away from the city, the New York accent is thick on his lips. David doesn't reply. Jack takes his silence as affirmation and visibly contemplates his next move. "Who?"

David doesn't reply. Of course he can't admit that it is only his rather late roommate. Instead, he merely gives Jack a look that passes the meaning that it isn't any of his business. Jack accepts this, silent. Suddenly a loud sound comes from behind David- the sound of somebody smashing into a large wooden object.

"Dave?" A loud masculine voice calls out from the opposite side of the apartment. Evidently, David's friend had locked himself out and came in through the fire escape instead. This isn't the first time that he's forgotten his keys, and he finds it easier to come in through the window than bang on the door.

David swears quietly as another man comes into the kitchen from another room. The man, blonde and sturdily-built, stops as soon as he sees who is at the door. His mouth drops, and he does not stop staring as he adjusts his eye-patch. Jack nods at him.

"Long time, no see, Kid."

"What…?" The newcomer looks from David to Jack, still as though he does not believe what he sees. David grimaces and takes a deep breath.

"Jack, you obviously know Ryan so no explanation is needed, is it? And Ryan, I'll explain later." The blonde nods, replying,

"Sure thing, Dave." He retreats, still throwing suspicious glances at Jack. Again, Jack nods, raising his hand fractionally in a farewell. David scowls, now beginning to regret ever opening the door.

"So…" Jack nods at the corner around which Ryan has now disappeared. "You'se rooming with Blink now?"

Immediately David knows what Jack is hinting at, and his scowl deepens. "No, Kelly. I'm not like that. You know full well that—"

"That you'se never had any feelings for one of your male friends? Tell someone who believes you, Davey."

David's face reddens, and his fists ball ever so slightly. His tone is sharp when he speaks. "_Don't call me that_." Jack makes no sign recognizing this statement, and David presses on. "And you, you of all people, have no right to _criticize _other people for that. Or have we forgotten certain— Certain…"

Trailing off, David motions with his hands, trying to signify what he cannot voice. By now his face is a deep crimson. A smirk begins to dawn on Jack's face.

"How could I have forgotten? You were so _innoce_—"

"Shut up." Now David's voice is beginning to rise. "I didn't ask you to come here, and I didn't ask you to come back at all. Nobody did. Nobody _wants_ you back. So how about you go back to whatever you were doing before you came here, and I'll do the same."

"Come on, David. Think about what you'se saying. You ain't gonna just shut the door on me like that are you?"

The question gets no reply. With barely a pause, David slams the door shut without saying another word. Jack does not bother to knock again.


	3. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: **Thank you for the reviews. I now present to you chapter two, which will begin to clear up some questions regarding what happened eight years ago.

**Chapter Two**

"_Jack!" Ryan Ballat jumps on his friend's bunk, grabbing the side of the bed for support as he nearly falls off. "Happy New Year's!" _

_Jack forces himself to smile, patting Ryan jovially on the back. "Yeah, Kid. Happy New Year."_

_But once his friend turns away, Jack's smile fades. He hasn't confided in anyone. Nobody knows that the start of the new year, the new century, signifies more than that to Jack Kelly. For him, it is the start of a new life. He has already bought a train ticket- it leaves tomorrow, with or without him. With this realization, the guilt begins to sink in._

_He knows he shouldn't leave without warning anybody. But he doesn't trust himself to tell anyone, afraid that they will be able to persuade him otherwise. This is his dream, and he is determined to live it. Sighing, he tries to join in the festivities around him. Giving up after a few feeble attempts, he goes downstairs, and continues outside. He sits down on the worn steps in front of the lodging house. He is alone now, though the sounds of people celebrating are all around him. Suddenly, a pair of feet appear beside him._

"_Heya Jack!" Jack looks up._

"_Hi Boots." The younger boy picks up on Jack's sullen mood almost immediately. Unsure of what to say, he shifts uneasily from foot to foot. After a moment of silence, Jack looks up at him._

"_Can ya do me a favor?" _

"_Sure, Jack." Boots grins, glad to have the opportunity to lift Jack's spirit. Jack digs around in his pocket, pulling out an old silver dollar. Boots eyes widen slightly, and he cocks an eyebrow almost suspiciously. Jack holds the coin out to him- it is all he has left to give after buying the train ticket._

"_Will you give this to Davey for me?" Jack hopes David will take the money as a sign that he was thinking of him before leaving. He hopes David can forgive him._

* * *

The streets are dark, but a lingering familiarity is present, allowing Jack to navigate them with ease. No longer are they full of newsboys- they retire to bed much earlier now, sleeping instead of breaking minor laws. Other things have not changed. The paint on the buildings is still the same color, if slightly more faded and stained. The same old man sits on his bench at the edge of 'Newsie's Square,' reading his paper.

The Square itself remains almost exactly the same as it had been, but Jack feels no connection with the place now. His days as a newsboy are long gone. He had hoped that if he found David again, he'd have been able to reconnect with his past- the one part of his life which he now looked upon fondly. All David has done, however, is prove that Jack cannot go back; he acted as a reminder that the past can never be brought back.

Still, Jack finds himself running his hand over the statue of Horace Green, remembering days when he had sat in this very spot. How nice it would be to be able to lounge here again, laughing with David about what fools they had been. But David, Jack fears, will not ever laugh alongside him again- for David has made it clear that he does not wish to associate with Jack, let alone converse with him.

Jack looks up again. His feet have brought him back to the Duane Street lodging house.

* * *

_Boots assures Jack that he will, though he does not understand why Jack cannot carry out the deed himself. The two boys, now talking about various recent events, made their way back inside. Boots leads Jack over to his bunk, and sits on the floor. Curious, Jack follows suit._

_Boots pushes aside a loose floorboard and Jack understands. Despite the utmost trust they instill in each other, the newsboys do not leave valuables out where anyone can snag them. Personal items are almost always carried with their owner- for they are few in number- or they are hidden somewhere where others will not find them. Peering under the board, Jack sees that Boots' collection is small, consisting of a few small-valued coins, an old shoe, and a package of cigarettes. _

_Boots tosses the coin under the board, and covers the makeshift treasure trove. Standing up, he nods at Jack, a silent assurance that he will not forget to give David his gift. Jack smiles weakly. That night, he cannot sleep._

_By the time the others wake up in the morning- late, as there is no paper, and they were up until near dawn the night before- Jack's bunk is empty. They assume he has left to visit someone or another, to wish them a happy New Year. All of them figure he will be back by supper, at the latest. He isn't back by then. He never attends another dinner there again. _

_Hundreds of miles away, Jack Kelly is reciting a strange phrase, for some reason feeling compelled to remember it. "Twenty boards forward, two boards left."_

* * *

Jack knows he shouldn't be poking around his old home. If he is caught, it will probably lead to a good amount of questioning and a fine. Still, he feels inexplicably drawn to the old green building, as if someone inside were softly calling his name.

The door to the building opens easily, emitting only the quietest of creaks as the hinges move. The inside looks as Jack expected, though the furniture is newer and less defiled. The same register book sits open on the counter, though the scrawl is much neater now than it had ever been while under Kloppman's hand. Jack glances at the stairwell.

He should leave now, before someone wakes up to find a stranger in their midst. He really should never have come in the first place. But now he feels the temptation to climb the stairs and peek in on his old bed- and Jack has never dealt well with temptation. His years in the west carving out a living by whatever means possible have left him with excellent abilities to remain silent. He is able to sneak up the stairs without making any noise.

Once at the top, he is surprised. The arrangement of the beds has changed- there are fewer now, but nicer, and spread along the walls, with an empty space in the middle. An odd thought enters Jack's mind. _Twenty forward…two left._

Gasping quietly, Jack creeps forward, counting boards as he goes. He kneels at a particular spot. There is no bed covering the board now, and as Jack presses, it rises slowly. His face falls, and his heart beat slows again. The hole contains nothing but dust, emptied long ago by someone departing their first real home. And yet, Jack finds that he cannot believe that David would have been as harsh as he had been if he had ever received a gift.

Yet the hole is empty- even in the darkness this is easy to see. Jack sticks his hand in, feeling the dust built up from many years of poor cleaning stick to his fingers. There is nothing, he should leave, this building is no longer a refuge…

He feels a small metal object tucked away in one of the corners.


	4. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: **So now that we've seen Jack's reaction to his run-in the only thing that could logically follow would, of course, be David's! Hope you enjoy!

**Chapter Three**

"Well, if everything I've heard is true, you're better off without that sleazy, rotten—"

"I think he's got the point."

"All I'se trying to say is—"

"Is nothin'. You don't know enough about the situation to judge it."

"If you'd stop interrupting me—"

"Shut up, both of you." David leans wearily against a tabletop in the small diner. His two friends are bickering over Jack's appearance but he doesn't really care about their opinions. Ryan knows better than to give any serious effort at persuading David one way or another, and the younger man at their table has never even met Jack. In fact, David doesn't even know his name, just that the boy works for Ryan.

"Well, he's bein' downright unfair, David, and—" Ryan's companion tries to voice his opinion but is cut across sharply.

"Just leave, please." David glances down at the menu in front of him, but he couldn't be less hungry. His appetite has not been present today, though he refuses to blame it on anything other than a large dinner the night before. The man glances once at David, then at Ryan. Ryan nods emphatically, and he stands up.

"Good ta see you, Dave. Ryan- tomorrow at nine?" Ryan merely nods again, and the man takes his cue to leave.

"He means well, ya know." Ryan is watching the receding back. "Jeremiah just wants to help you. We all do. What with Jack—"

"What did you say was the specialty of this place?" David asks, pretending as if he cannot hear Ryan. Ryan sighs. David has always been touchy about Jack, ever since the scoundrel left New York all those years ago. Though he is attempting to pretend as if he were not shaken by the encounter from the night before, Ryan knows him too well to be fooled, and knows that the topic needs to be pressed.

"Ya know, David… When Ja—" Ryan pauses as David throws him a glare from the other side of the table. Once David's eyes have returned to the wooden tabletop, he continues. "When _he_ left, maybe he didn' realize how much he'd hurt some of us around him. Maybe…maybe he thought what he was doin' was the best for everyone."

David looks up at Ryan, his eyes cold. "And maybe he did." But he has a small seed of doubt in his mind now. Ryan is rarely serious, and when he is, his words are usually surprisingly insightful. The doubt tells David that he can't accept what Ryan is saying because he doesn't want to. David insists that it is because Ryan is wrong.

"David…" Ryan meets David's eyes and does not break contact. "Jack was always so devoted to ya. Ya never realized it, though. Jack wouldn't come to some of our, our things if it meant he had to miss time with the Jacobs family. And you, in particular. It could be that he made a mistake- maybe he really does jus' want ta get back into your life."

"He was always spinning his little webs of lies and deceit. Do you not remember the strike?" David remembers it perfectly. The sting of betrayal, the joy of success and then, most of all, the anger of abandonment- they are all fresh on his mind as if it had only happened the day before. "How do I know that this isn't just another one of those lies?"

"You don't." Ryan makes the first concession of the day, and ironically, it is the statement that makes David pay the most attention to what he is saying. "There's no way for ya to know what Jack means to do. His…whaddya call it? His intentions? Yeah. They could be completely dishonest, but ya just don't know. Or he could be an egg, livin' the high life, and wants to make amends."

"That's some big talk coming from you." David smiles, hoping Ryan understands that he is only making fun of him. He takes Ryan's silence as a sign he did. Becoming serious again, David finds himself running his hands through his hair in frustration. "So, what am I supposed to believe? Whatever reason he's here for, I don't want anything to do with it."

"Because you'se still hurtin'."

The statement hangs in the air for a tense thirty seconds. David doesn't speak, because deep down, he knows that Ryan is right. On the surface, he is angry at his friend for even thinking such an absurd thing- Jack left, and that was the end of it. David has long since abandoned any feelings of camaraderie. Ryan doesn't speak either, letting his assertion sink in for the full effect. When it is apparent that David is not going to reply, he sighs.

"Davey, you know as well as I do that it's true." The next second, David's fist has slammed onto the table and Ryan jumps violently.

"This is such _bullshit_. Why would he ever feel the need to come back here, let alone come back to _me_. And since when do you give me advice on how to manage my life? I'll tell you when- Never. You never have and you never will. So _stop_ trying to make yourself more important in my life."

Ryan sits calmly after the initial shock, merely absorbing David's tirade without any obvious emotion. Once David is done, there is a slight pause before Ryan says quietly, "Because you'se reserving the number one spot for someone else, right?"

David, now pink in the face, is staring at Ryan as though he has suddenly mutated into a wild animal. "What?"

"Davey, you know exactly what I mean. You'se smarter than I am so don't try to play to dumb card on me."

"Ryan, please try to understand. I don't want Jack back in my life. It was simpler without him. Maybe…" David pauses slightly before voicing his minor concession, "Maybe it was hard at rare times, and more frustrating, but it was never as confusing. I know how all the people around me see me, I know what's happening tomorrow and the next day. There's no guessing, no need to expect the unexpected. It's easier this way, so why should I change?" It was more than he had meant to say, and David immediately hopes that he has not said so much.

"Where's the fun in that?" Ryan surveys him evenly, evidently watching for any reaction in David's facial expression. "Where do you hope to go from there?"

"I hope to go back to when everything was easier- when everything made sense."

"When Jack was here?"

"No." David sighs, looking up at Ryan and showing his deeper turmoil to Ryan for the first time. "When Jack cared about me."


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Jack has never been good at waiting. Patience may be a virtue, but he has never been graced with it. Now, as he sits on the stairs outside the apartment building, staring at the sooty wall of bricks and windows across from him, he wishes people would be a bit more punctual. Of course, there is no set time for the impending meeting, and only one party even knows of its existence. But still, Jack wishes that the looming sense of dread he feels will soon be lifted. Finally, at the sound of footsteps, he looks up. The person begins to walk by without even glancing at him, and Jack stands up, holding out the dollar coin that has been firmly held in his fist.

"A penny for your pape, mister?"

"I think you're a bit behind the times. My papers have risen in value over time." David barely spares a glance at Jack before continuing into the building. However, he leaves the door open behind him, and Jack takes that as his cue to follow him. Up three flights of stairs, down the hall- David never looks back. But he knows Jack is there, and after shaking off his jacket once inside the apartment, he actually looks at him.

"Coffee?" Jack is surprised at the sudden civility. What has changed from the night before? He had expected to have to beg and grovel just to get David to consider letting him into the apartment. Not wanting to push his newfound luck, he merely nods, sitting down at the small table in the kitchen. David bustles around the room for several minutes and Jack merely watches. Finally David sits down, placing a mug of coffee in front of Jack and a cup of tea in front of himself. He stares at Jack, who hesitatingly begins to talk.

"Well, um, last night didn't go as well as I'd planned." David says nothing, so Jack continues. "I didn't plan on leavin'. You know that, right? I planned on going eventually, but not so soon. I—"

"Then why did you, Jack? And why am I the person who you came running back to apologize to when you hurt everyone?" David knows he probably will not get straight answers, and Jack will most likely refuse to answer the second question- the question that David thinks he knows the answer to anyways. And he also knows that he doesn't want to hear the answer.

"David, I didn't mean to hurt anybody. Honest." Jack can easily predict David's reaction, but is still surprised at the vehemence that David manages to muster.

"Well, you did!" Abandoning his tea, David stands up and begins to pace agitatedly around the small room. "You did hurt people, Jack! Me, Ryan, Michael, Tony, everybody! You did Jack!"

Jack sighs and leans forward to rest his head in his hands. He glances at David, uncertainty even more apparent in his eyes now. "Why? Why was it so hard for you to see me leave?" It is not validation that is Jack is searching for. He seems to be almost challenging David to find an answer to the question- David falters slightly in his step, but his eyes are still steadfastly angry.

"Jack, you were everybody's best friend. You were my best friend. You were more than just another newsboy to everyone. And you just expected to be able to leave us all?" David stops walking and looks straight at Jack. "You thought you could walk out on me? –On us? It hurt, Jack."

"You hurt me, too." David blinks and Jack fully averts his gaze. His voice is a mere whisper and contrasts sharply with the raised tone David has been using. "Did you ever consider that?"

"What?"

"David, you abandoned me first. You say you were hurt so much when I left. But how do you think I felt when you vanished to go back to school and to your world? I was left to wonder if you even cared about how you were the only reason for me to stay in New York- or if you even knew, for that matter. Or if you just saw me as yet another newsie sittin' in the lodging house who you should have sympathy for because he was never going to be able to live up to the things that you would go on to do. I got scared, David. I'll admit it, because I want you to believe it. I got scared, and I ran." Jack has not looked up at David since his monologue began, but David too has now averted his eyes. Without looking up, he poses a simple question.

"Why were you scared?"

"Because, David… Hell, I was scared you were going to realize I was nothing compared to you. I was scared that you'd never come back. I was scared of being alone- I didn't want to be left alone with my own thoughts because without you, I didn't have any thoughts that were worth anything. I was scared that I would become nothing. Without you, I had nothing stopping that from happening, so I ran. Somewhere where nobody could compare Jack Kelly to the Jack Kelly who existed around David Jacobs. Somewhere—Anywhere that wasn't here."

"Jack, flattery isn't going to help you win your way back into my favor." But the words are empty and David knows it. Jack's confession has soundly shaken everything he has centered his hate for the man for the last eight years around. David cannot bring himself to believe it- he knows Jack has lied before, but there is something in Jack's voice that makes him feel like he should listen to him. "Did you even begin to think of how I'd react when I found out you'd left?"

"Of course I did!" Jack looks at David for the first time in minutes, and his expression clearly reflects his incredulity at the question. "David, I cared about you! I thought about you for every waking moment- and a lot of my other ones too- before I left. I—I left you something when I went, but I guess you never got it. And that means that, uh, until now, you never even knew about it."

David's curiosity is piqued, and he cannot deny it. Sitting down across from Jack again, he surveys him with a new emotion in his eyes- it is one of not just curiosity, but almost sorrow. "You left me something?"

"Davey. You were the only person who ever really took a second glance at me and realized that I was an actual human being- let alone a person who you might actually befriend and share fond memories with. Ya think I wouldn't have remembered that?" Jack pulls the coin out from his pocket for the second time. Since the night before, the coin has been repeatedly polished and shined- more out of nerves than the desire for it to be presentable. Jack hands it to David over the table. "It isn't much, but, well… You know."

He trails off, but David is now looking at the coin, and Jack knows he is remembering some of the things they had shared in their youth. Slowly, David says, "It was worth more back then."

David's statement is said in a questioning tone, almost as if he wants Jack to confirm it. Jack doesn't need to, so he says nothing, letting David sit and examine the token.

"Jack, I never thought I'd be having this conversation with you," he says after a time of silence. "I thought you were gone for good, and I moved on. From our friendship- I put it all behind me."

"Didn' some of the greatest fools in history think they could ignore the past and put it all behind them?" Jack's tone is light, and he is not accusing David- David recognizes the truth in what he is saying, but is still reluctant to speak again. Jack continues evenly, "Look, David, all I want is your forgiveness. I want you to be able to look me in the eyes and honestly say you've forgiven me. After last night, I didn't expect it to happen. But coming here, now…I guess I've just instilled some of that hope back in myself."

David sighs. He was worried that Jack would ask for forgiveness. The older man has proved a lot tonight- he has proved that he has greatly matured since their last meeting, that he has realized his faults from their youth, and above all, Jack Kelly has honestly apologized. But he was always a fickle person, and David does not want to have his dreams shattered again. Out loud, he merely says, "You've grown-up at last, Jack, haven't you?"

"I'd like to think that, yes." The corner of Jack's mouth twitches, and this leads way to a smile. Suddenly, they're both laughing, full-out mirth that seems to have no origin. David notices that Jack's chair has inadvertently become closer to his own, sliding towards it as Jack's weight shifts in his laughter. He does not comment on this however, still chuckling. Jack gulps for breath, tears at the corner of his eyes from the laughs; his hand falls on top of David's and lingers too long.

The room goes silent.

**A/N: **Unfortunately for all of you, National Novel Writing Month, finals, and a busy winter holiday all came in quick succession, which left me and my wonderful beta with very little time for writing and editing. But, here is the very belated chapter four. Know that chapter five is already in the works, as is the first chapter of my next work. Happy new year to all!


	6. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: **Wow. I never imagined myself finishing a story over a year after I had originally started it- especially one as short as this. Yet here I am, presenting the final chapter of Spinster. Look for more of my work that I've written in the past year [my effective hiatus] being put up shortly. Until then, thanks for reading, and here is the final part of Spinster. I hope you enjoy it.

**Chapter Five**

The atmosphere in the room reflects the sudden tension felt by each of the two people within it. Biting his lip in a mixture of both apologetic worry and resignation, Jack rapidly removes his hand as though becoming aware of the indiscretion that he has just committed for the first time. He shrinks away, moving his chair back around the table in the opposite direction. They both open their mouths to speak at the same time, Jack beating David to finding his voice by a mere fraction.

"David, I'm sorry- I didn't—"

"No, Jack." David cuts across the other before he can finish his statement. Something has changed in his demeanor, as though the preceding event has molded his attitude in a way that nothing else had. Jack notices and falls silent, letting his statement go unfinished. When David speaks, there is a peculiar ring to his voice. He speaks slowly, as though weighing each of his words to ensure that they reflect what he truly wants to say. "No, Jack, I'm sorry. I'm sorry that you couldn't come to me earlier to attempt to fix things. I was- no, am caught in the past- I let myself remember far more than I should have."

"We all carry things from our past, Dave. I know that better than anybody." Though he is still slightly on edge, recognizing how big his mistake was, Jack makes a concerted effort not to put any accusatory or suspicious tone to his words. He has worked for so long to create this opportunity to earn David's full forgiveness and he is unwilling to let it slip away by some fault of his own.

David shakes his head, running his hands through his hair. "I know. I just… It's so hard to admit mistakes- or to acknowledge that you were wrong. I wish that I could just let everything go but I can't. It's not in my inner nature to."

Jack remains silent, sensing that David isn't finished. David looks up at him. Light blue eyes meet the other's dark hazel. The blue eyes flick back and forth, staring into each of the darker ones in turn. Their owner seems to be searching for something, though Jack doesn't know what. He can only meet David's gaze and hope that he finds what he is looking for. One or two moments pass where neither moves, just holding each other's gaze. Then David drops his eyes again to stare at his hands. When he speaks again, his voice is flatter than before- the hopefulness of minutes before is missing and has been replaced by an unmistakable tone of sorrow. "Not even for you."

"What?"

Jack's voice quivers slightly with the shock that is coursing through his body. He had thought that they had made progress, that David had been ready to forgive him. Of all the things that David could have said, this was one of the last things Jack had expected. Staring at David, dumbstruck, Jack cannot say anything else.

"Jack, I can't just erase the past. I can tell that you've changed but how do I know that if things go back to the way they were that you wouldn't just change again? I've already wasted enough of my life bemoaning the loss of my best friend- I refuse to do it again."

Still struggling to find his voice, Jack stares at David as though seeing him clearly for the first time. "Does all that I've said mean nothing to you? Am I really just another person on the street to you? Whatever happened to the David Jacobs who would've stuck through thick an' thin with his best friend Jack Kelly?"

David opens his mouth to speak but Jack cuts across him with surprising ferocity, refusing to let him get a word in otherwise. "No, David, you listen to me for once without trying to just think of a way to think of a way to twist things around. Yes, I made a mistake or two. You'se made plenty of them yourself in your own right. Did I make a mistake in leaving? Yes. Did I wait too long before coming home? Hell, if I could've, I probably would have come back right after I left. But here I am.

"I'm not going to wait for you to forgive me forever. I could just as easily slip away again. I'm good at avoiding people if I want to- you'd never have to know where I was again." Jack's voice, which had been rising throughout his speech, suddenly softens again. Though quiet, it is still steely with determination and when their eyes meet again, Jack's are not nearly as abashed as David's. "But I don't want to. I want to be a part of your life, even if just a small one, because you are the best friend I've ever had. We may not have what we once did but look inside yourself and tell me if we have anything at all. If the answer is honestly no, I'll leave now and won't ever bother coming back."

David can no longer meet Jack's eyes. The only thing he feels is confusion. This was never a confrontation that he had planned- not one that he wanted. He can sense Jack watching him closely, so his eyes remain glued to the table. All he has to do is open his mouth and the problem will be solved forever… but he can't.

Finally bringing his head up, he looks at Jack. Despite their troubles and the fact that until now, he thought that he was gone forever, David has never replaced the friendship that he had with Jack as a child. It wasn't that the opportunity had not presented itself- it was that he had never taken it. He knows that part of him will always see Jack as his best friend, whether he wants it to or not. That part of him is not the part that usually governs him, making logical decisions. And yet, his brain has never seemed to dictated his actions when it came to Jack. It has always been his heart.

And his heart knows now what his answer is, even if his brain wills him away from saying it. David knows that things will never be how they were before- there will always be a bit of this trouble between them. And yet, maybe the way things were wasn't how he now wants them to be. He and Jack are two different personalities. It is something that cannot change, though David knows that he wouldn't want it to.

The words are not easy for David to speak. And yet, when he says them, it is with a resonance and conviction that carries. Despite the emotions welling up inside him, David manages to keep his voice clear.

"Stay."

David watches Jack's face as he registers what was said. His downcast attitude evaporates and with an expression of almost total disbelief, Jack looks up. Their eyes meet.

They both smile.


End file.
